In Your Criminal Arms
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: Fleur has a secret, and it's during Harry and Ginny's wedding that she's forced to face him in the flesh. Written for the Quidditch Leagues.


**In Your Criminal Arms**

 **Written For:  
** **-** Quidditch Leagues: (word) Hairbrush, (occasion) Hug-A-Ginger Day, (dialogue) "Because you're _mental_ , that's why."  
\- Gringotts Prompt Bank: (quote) "I'm here to eat cotton candy and steal your girl." - _Damon Salvatore, The Vampire Diaries_ , (word set) Earring, Sapphire, Kitten, Hope, (word) Clarified

* * *

"Ooh!" shrieked Fleur suddenly, gripping her husband's arm as a particularly loud firecracker exploded in the black sky in front of them. " _Merde_ , Bill!" It was the eve of Harry and Ginny's wedding ceremony at the Burrow, and the Weasley's were hosting a magnificent firework display in celebration.

Fleur had only ever seen fireworks from afar before, usually from the balconies of Beauxbatons Academy, or way across the lakes where she would spend the summers in France. Here at the Burrow, Mr Weasley was lighting the rockets only a couple of hundred metres away from where they stood.

Bill grinned down at her, his scarred face flashing with lights, illuminated in shades of pink and lime green. "It's okay, Fleur. Dad has put up enchantments in case any fireworks go astray."

Fleur shook her head, biting back the remark that was forming on her tongue. She was happy that Ginny and Harry were getting married, of course, but she wished that she could be watching the firework display from behind a window. In addition, she wished she could be watching it with a certain someone else—though, she would never admit that to her husband.

She had pledged to love Bill forever when she said her vows, and she was determined to live out that promise—even if it meant only _pretending_ that her love for the oldest Weasley was real.

"Surprise!" a sudden voice caused Bill to jump this time, and curse loudly as he spilled his mug of Butterbeer all over himself. He groaned, rubbing his shirt with his palm to cease the scolding. "...Well, that didn't go how I expected, big brother," the intruder continued, and Bill and Fleur both turned to face him.

Charlie Weasley stood there, grinning mischievously with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing denim jeans instead of the smart dress robes that everyone else wore, and a white shirt with several of the top buttons open. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail, but tendrils escaped, hanging around his face and neck. The wide grin on his face barely concealed the fresh looking burn that marred his left cheek, and Fleur had to bite the inside of her cheek not to lunge forward and check he was okay.

"Charlie!" Bill exclaimed, his face brightening. He exchanged a brief hug with his brother, and Fleur's insides warmed worryingly as Charlie made eye contact with her over Bill's shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm here to eat cotton candy and steal your girl," scoffed Charlie, his eyes continuing to glimmer in Fleur's direction. "What do you think I'm doing - my only sister's wedding, of course I would be here."

"Well, you're a bit late," clarified Bill. "Harry has been married to Ginny for...about five hours, now."

"I know. It wasn't easy to get out of Egypt, things are _hectic_ over there."

"Egypt? I thought you were working in Romania still?"

"I was, but I got a call last week. A pack of about twelve Chinese Fireballs were guarding a heavily locked up tomb some way out in Cairo," Charlie gestured to the thick, blistered skin on his burnt neck. "I got a bad burn on that job but there was a lot of treasure in there. I got out with a pretty good wedding present for Ginny," Charlie looked around a few times to make sure that his sister wasn't around, and then fished in the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out small box of purple velvet, and prised it open.

Fleur gasped in surprise. On the small bed lay the most beautiful bracelet that she had ever seen; a bangle forged from the whitest platinum, intricately designed with what appeared to be a mass of scuttling scarabs, each one adorned with it's own glimmering, inset sapphire. The black diamond eyes twinkled on each insect brightly.

Bill raised an eyebrow at his brother as Charlie closed the box and placed it back inside his pocket safely. "Were you _allowed_ to take that little piece of ancient history, Charlie?"

"Of course," scoffed Charlie. "Why do you think I would _steal_ something so precious?"

"Because you're _mental_ , that's why," Bill muttered, but the shadow of a smirk was present on his face. He brushed the front of his shirt again, sighing at the yellowing stain. "I suppose I should go and get cleaned up."

"Bill!" Mr Weasley's frantic voice cut through the murmured chatter of the rest of the wedding party. "Bill, could you come and help me with this?" Fleur glanced over, watching a sweat-drenched Mr Weasley hurrying over towards Bill, clutching a fire cracker that had a fizzling end. Fleur gasped and grabbed at Charlie's hand automatically. She let go almost as soon as she had done it, and luckily Bill didn't seem to notice.

He turned and smiled again at Charlie, and then once down at Fleur. "I'll see you in a bit," he managed to say before Arthur dragged him off into the crowd.

A long silence seemed to echo between Fleur and Charlie once Bill had left, something that didn't even seem to be filled by the incessant babbling that garbled around them. She pursed her lips together hard, determined not to be the one to speak first.

"You look real pretty, Fleur." Charlie finally purred, leaning closer to her. Fleur kept her gaze on the part of the crowd where her husband had disappeared into. "That dress fits you nicely."

A pang of guilt resounded in her lower belly, and Fleur wondered if Charlie felt the same when he was leering at his brother's wife. She idly fiddled with the irritating clip-on earring on her left lobe, and made a minimal effort to glance at his face. " _Merci_ ," she thanked him politely. "You look..." her eyes cascaded up and down his run-down appearance, and he shrugged.

"You know I'm not ever one to make a statement."

"Hmm."

"Though, I did do one thing that you told me to last time we met."

"And 'zat was?"

"I ran a hairbrush through my hair," Charlie grinned again, and Fleur resisted the urge to press her lips to that smiling mouth. "Can't you tell?" he turned to the side, and his auburn hair glimmered like the sunset as a particularly orange firework exploded above them. "Anyway," Charlie continued when Fleur failed to respond. "I'd like to know why you didn't throw yourself on me, like you often do," his voice dropped substantially. "When we are alone, that is."

"Why would I do 'zat, Charlie?" Fleur asked incredulously, her pale blue eyes widening.

"Because it's Hug-a-Ginger day."

"Hug a— _pardon?_ "

"Hug a ginger," Charlie held out his arms, and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Like me. I take it you have thrown yourself at all of my brothers and my baby sister, in honour of this wondrous occasion?"

"Of course not," scorned Fleur disdainfully.

"Well, it's not up for discussion," before Fleur could respond, Charlie had seized her and pulled her into his chest tightly. "Happy Hug-a-Ginger Day!" he exclaimed loudly, in case of any onlookers getting the wrong idea. A few overheard Charlie, and laughed delightedly, turning to embrace their red-haired neighbours.

Fleur felt her entire abdominal innards melting to mush, as her cheek was pressed firmly against the warm skin that peeked out of Charlie's shirt. His big arms almost crushed her, but in the most wonderful, exciting way. His head dropped a little lower and his hot breath tickled the shell of her ear. "I hope you have an excuse in mind."

"Why?" Fleur asked, trying desperately to sound haughty, but her voice came out like that of a strangled kitten.

"Well, I'm going to need a reason to take you out of Bill's way, aren't I?"


End file.
